I Got Married

–Impromptu Post Warning–

–Uncalled-for-Drama Warning–

I got married. Yeah, I did.

Thankfully, it was only a dream nightmare. But never before have I spring-jumped from my bed like a jack-out-of-the-box and scurried across the confines of my little apartment in the hope that I don’t stumble into that deadly creature popularly known as THE WIFE.

As it so happens, it turned out to be an arranged marriage. The wife-to-be’s deranged relatives kept pouring in to my home in an area mildly similar to Antarctican extremes. They ripped off my tee-shirt and started applying some sort of powder on my body that resembled very closely in color to liquid excreta entering a Level II Treatment Section in a remote sanitation facility. Very soon, the sound of music took up the air. And by ‘sound of music’, I meant aunty cheerleaders (without the cheerleader outfits, of course) screaming their lungs out at the prospect of seeing me go under the knife.

Despite all the chaos, I attempted to take aside of a few of my I-think-they’re-sane-enough family members and desperately tried to convince them that I do NOT want to marry. This girl. Any girl. Don’t. Want. To. Marry. I attempted to fake-puke my way out of the marriage, but to nothing. Relatives kept pouring in, however. Apart from the free food, I failed to understand what motivated them so strongly. Oh wait, my death.

Saner are those people who live unmarried lives, even if they’re usually demented and search for stuff like ‘mangal pandey sex’ or ‘dog toilets’ on this blog. Less paranoid are those people who shun marriage but are crazy enough to take kids to a room and offer them a ‘lollypop’. Marriage is, by heaps and bounds and miles and kilometers and Chetan Bhagat book pages, the scariest invention ever.

Scariest. Ever.

All it took was a dream nightmare for me to realize that.


Year End And All That

So, 2011 is here. Err, not yet. Except in Chatham Islands.

While the rest of the world engages in the usually thought-provoking New Year’s resolutions (“I promise to buy my boxers, and not let my mom do it” or “I promise to watch Shah Rukh Khan’s new TV show and it’s incessant replays”), let’s study the usual email sending and Facebook tagging that didn’t happen in those golden ages.

You should consider yourself lucky if, unlike me, you didn’t get an email that attempts to sell me collage mugs along with the customary New Year’s greetings. No, it’s a collage mug. Not a college mug. I didn’t misspell. Not only do you get one collage mug, but two for the price of one. Like two Sagarika Ghoses. One on TV, and the other on Twitter. Holy Moses! Hey, it rhymes.

Like how Pamela Anderson’s arrival in Mumbai and departure from Bigg Boss takes the BB out of BB4, a New Year’s without emails, Facebook and Blue Mountain greeting cards is unsatisfyingly B-less, forget BBs. And if you think ‘BB’ stands for BlackBerry, you should return focus to that chat notification on your BB device RIGHT NOW.

So, that’s that. Tags on Facebook hit new levels when the comments, packed with ‘♥’, ‘♥♥’ and ‘♥♥♥’ that flood the photo you were tagged in. As if the torture of just being tagged wasn’t enough. It’s like how Arnab Goswami’s The Newshour is sometimes complete with the appearance of Ravi Shankar Prasad. Sometimes? Err.

Like India’s ambitions of becoming a superpower before uber-patriotic Kalaignar Karunanidhi breathes last, I promise to make THAT resolution THAT I will live up to. Won’t forget. Will spray paint it on my room’s walls, will tweet it incessantly, will Facebook tag it. Wooo! What all this tells us is that love and commitment to promises does exist. No matter how fake or real it is, no matter how manufactured or genuine it is, IT EXISTS! I SCREAM to tell you that.

So, Happy New Year, then. Don’t forget to wish your friends on Facebook. And pray you are never tagged in something like this. Because nothing says and love and friendship like this photo.


[On Twitter]

Epic IPL Personalities: Alternative Career Options

In today’s IPL special, this blog suggests that the good people on screen in the IPL consider these career options for better success in their lives.


The Queen of the Ambani household (wait, is that Kokilaben? ahh! who cares!) should forego her current job as ‘Official Mumbai Indians Staring Device’ and take the lead role in Paranormal Activity 2. Yes, the horror flick’s roles are just being cast and it seems the producers are keen on signing up Mrs. Ambani for their epic.

If Mrs. Ambani wants her real-life husband, Mukesh, to also play the reel-life role (and because he seems pretty capable as seen above), then we should allow that. If not for the movie’s sake, at least for Mumbai Indians’ sake. But one wonders how the crew will be able to film the scene where a completely possessed Nita might have to fling beer-belly Mukesh at the camera. Anyway, they’ll do something I hope. They can always fake the scene and throw a huge Toysaurus toy bear at the camera!


SuperMan AyushMann should leave bumble-jumble commentary, where he makes more mistakes than a 1st-grade toddler learning Primarily Primary English Course 1, and test dog food for a change.

Yes, the Dog Party of India (DPI) is indeed delighted to have an official tester. The whole community responded with a night-full of barking, with street dogs leading the way.

DPI leader Bhaukta Kutta has said in the media that they didn’t entirely trust the dog food doing the rounds in the market. As it is an industry run by humans, DPI has stated that they want human testers. And who better than numb nut Ayushmann Khurrana! With the number of extra letters in his name, you’d really sound like a dog barking if you took his name every now and then.

Ayushmann is apparently licking his fingers at the prospect of licking dog food. That’s healthy enthusiasm for a new career!


Lalit Kumar Modi. The man who milked India (and the entire cricket world) for money, should now give a hand at milking snakes. Maybe, he can save lives if he takes the venom out of snakes. Given his penchant for milking, Modi might prove to be a revolutionary in the Snake Milking business (and hopefully get poisoned for good himself!).

LK Modi was smug (see reaction in pic above) when asked about milking snakes. In typical fashion, he stated that he can milk the hell out of anything. Wonder what will happen when Modi comes face to face with this little one below. Should be an epic clash!

Meanwhile, the snakes are waiting to be milked, Mr. Modi. Hope you return in time for IPL 4!



This speech-marathon-winning ex-cricketer thinks he can make us laugh. And he can sometimes. But he is best left to massaging street pigs of all shapes and sizes. If nothing, pig grunts will make Sidhu  way more happier than the dull audience reaction he gets from us.

His saliva glands (which are operating at super-low reserve petrol level) can breathe a sigh of relief too, as Sidhu is more likely to make only maniacal hand gestures when massaging pigs’ noses and bottoms than those lip/mouth ones. Apparently, the pigs are excited at this potential new industry, coming up in their rather dull lives. Post-Swine Flu, things have been very quiet. And with Sidhuji leading the way, all we can say is – Bada Changaa Hai Jee!!


Notice to Pigs: Congratulations! Sidhuji has opened shop. Now, take a look at Sidhuji’s hands for potential Sidhu-Flu causing germs. You’ve been warned.


OH BOY!! They are queuing up. First-come-first-serve, dudes and dudettes!!

To Be Continued… 🙂

PS: I have no alternative career, sadly. But you can follow me on Twitter for random nonsense. Or visit my other blog, for a change.

So, was there action?

Shiv Sena, Shah Rukh Khan, media obsession and real issues. Err, scratch real issues.

Re-runs and re-runs of Shah Rukh Khan versus Shiv Sena on various Indian news channels (which I do not watch any longer), and the severe side-effects of this issue on my family and many others I know, has forced me to return to (personal) blogging and share some of my thoughts, which I do more often now on Twitter than here. (Yes, blame laziness.)

As usual, a big issue has been made out of a small issue and the media (yet again) escapes with misleading the public into believing that such incidents are worth more than maybe the little attention they genuinely deserve. Sure, a well-known actor is being threatened by a bunch of chauvinistic bigots. And that deserves attention.

My question is how much? And more importantly, was there action?

As expected, praise is being showered on Shah Rukh Khan while the Shiv Sena are (rightly) pelted with verbal stones. The media is whipping up hysteria around the issue, as if SRK is a national hero who’s just back from defending our borders.

There is not much doubt that SRK’s ‘great neighbours’ statement is worth condemnation. But obviously, a sane person wouldn’t want the Shiv Sena taking on his/her behalf. Hence, comes a juicy war of words, most opportunistically picked up by a national media obsessed with anything that comes out of SRK’s mouth (majorly aimed at promoting his films).

In this entire milieu, no one seems to realize that a more effective approach to this is for the Government of Maharashtra to step up and curb down the threat of the Sena strongly. But are they even in the picture? No. We, as the people of India, also need to work to take our minds away from the silently and severely damaging mindset of pop heroism, that is associated with the likes of SRK.

The Congress government of Maharashtra is arguably the weakest state government in the country, completely dependant on reaping the ‘fruits’ of identity politics and hence, stay in power.

Serious issues like water problems in Mumbai and excessive load-shedding in all parts of Maharashtra are left untouched. The BJP does what is easy (and opportunistic), and doesn’t care to do what might actually work well for them in the long run.

Action against Shiv Sena, where art thou?

[On similar lines, I had made a few observations about The Pink Chaddi versus The Pink Condom campaigns a year back. Also check out this funny take on the issue at Faking News.]

[Related post: Solilo]

Expel Varun Gandhi


With general elections less than a month away, BJP leader Varun Gandhi’s alleged hate speech in Pilibhit was shameless propaganda from the Gandhi scion in an attempt to win a seat from Uttar Pradesh. The BJP-led NDA would do well to immediately repudiate Gandhi’s remarks and expel him from the party, if they are to give an indication of being mature enough to win the Lok Sabha elections.

News channels spun into a frenzy as the Hindu-Muslim fire had been ignited once again. While sense has prevailed and most leaders including Muslims from the BJP have condemned Gandhi’s remarks, the Shiv Sena has his back with their claims of ‘nothing wrong’ having been said by Gandhi. The silence of more influential leaders like Narendra Modi and Prime Minister-in-waiting L K Advani is baffling though as their quick denouncement would do a world of good to the tattered image of the BJP.

Varun Gandhi’s ‘clarification’ is unapologetic and absurd, doubling the necessity to expel the leader.

“I am a victim of political conspiracy. It was not my voice, not my words,” Mr Gandhi told a press conference in the Indian capital, Delhi.


Even if we were to suppose that he is a victim of a political conspiracy, just how is it not ‘his voice’ and how are those not ‘his words’?

All-India Institute of Perverts

About Us
Founded in Mangalore, the All-India Institute of Perverts is a pioneer in promoting the erosion of all morals from within the human brain, and specializes in debauchery. The AIIP has been known to produce world-class debauchees who are well versed in being radical sensualists and masterful hooligans.

Aspirants for a seat in the AIIP require the following basic qualifications-
1) Age – No limits
2) Sex – Male (Females are allowed, on the criteria that they will have to be experts in wrestling against their own sex)
3) Know how to say Jai Sri Ram and Girls are like my sisters and make them appear completely genuine
4) Be fundamentalist
5) Detest Valentine’s Day (and hence detest red heart-shaped balloons, greeting cards and Archie’s Gallery)
6) At least 1 year experience in destruction of furniture and pub/club hoardings.

– Masters in Moral Policing
– Masters in Moral Policing (Extra subjects: HOW TO 1) Slap a woman, 2) Tangle her hair in an attempt to make her bald, 3) Hold a woman by her head with both hands and fling her hard onto the ground)

Apply Fast. Limited Seats. And don’t forget to bring along a saffron robe.

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How to survive a terrorist attack

A lost Aam Aadmi huffs and puffs across an unknown territory somewhere in the Land of Unprotected Civilians, chased by MP5-wielding terrorists and sinister demons armed with AK-47s. As Aam Aadmi looks around for help, he senses a glimmer of hope somewhere ahead that is shining bright. He speeds towards it.

Aam Aadmi thinks – “Oh wow! It’s President Bush – the world’s strongest man. He will help me.”

Pres Bush – “Haay! Who the hell are ya? What do you think you are doing, coming to me for security? Are you American?”

Aam Aadmi – “No, sir. But you could help me as the people threatening me might also target Americans.”

Pres Bush – “What! Who told you that I will help you? I am only concerned about the prime interests of my citizens and my country and my concept of world peace depends on that. Only if my people are threatened, I will help you. For now, all I can do is point you towards your dear Prime Minister.”

Aam Aadmi grudgingly moves ahead.

Ah! It’s the Prime Minister of India. He will save me for sure, Mr. Aadmi thinks.

PM – “See, Aam. I will give you not one, but two ways of helping yourself. But I cannot directly help you from my current position.”

Aam Aadmi – “But sir, you are the Prime Minister. You certainly can.”

PM – “Yes, but I myself am not secure. My dear rival for the PM’s post in the upcoming elections, Ms. Mayawati, has bullied me into giving her the maximum security and I stand helpless. Ms. Gandhi has been kind enough to provide me shelter in the office. So you either go to Mayawati or go to Bihar where a kind old man will help you. Or at least provide you with a train ticket to your home.”

Aam Aadmi, disappointingly, heads for the badlands of Uttar Pradesh.

The Queen of UP will help me from these dreaded terrorists, who are after my life for the past three decades, he thinks and calms himself down.

And before he could even utter a word…

UP CM – “GET OUT, Aam. I don’t help anyone. I only help myself. Don’t you know that? GET OUTTA HERE!!”.

Scared and frightened more than he has ever been, Aam tags along to Bihar.

Laluji will help me. He is known to help a lot of people in his state. I hope for the best.”, Mr. Aadmi thinks.

LPY – “Aam, I lub India. I lub avar pippals. I lub this desh ki mitti. I am agnaist all pippals who threat to unity of avar India.”

Aam Aadmi – “Laluji, dreaded terrorists are behind my life.”

LPY – “WHAT!! Why did not you tell early? Oh, I hab to run. Ok, come sum adhar time and listen to me bhashan.”

Aam, however, is extremely desperate for help. He clings on to LPY’s lungi and tries to force himself out of the situation he is stuck in. LPY smacks him on the head with his broomstick, blurts “Ki karat hai bahua!” and Aam loses grip. LPY escapes. He was later spotted savouring continental lunch on an express train.

Meanwhile, Aam moves on towards the south. On the way, he meets Amar Singh (on the way to his weekly social gathering at the Big B Adda) who offers to listen to his troubles.

Aam explains his problems.

AS – “My party helps most minorities in this country, especially those that consistently vote for us. So until the next elections, I’m afraid I cannot help you as we will have to see how many seats we gained and how important we are in the current setup.”

On reaching the Most Frequented-by-Terror Land, Aam heads to the sparkling bungalow of Bollywood superstar Shah Rukh Khan. SRK, apparently rehearsing a clown act for his next movie, seems to be taken aback by his plight.

SRK – “Aam, Kabhi Kabhi Kuch Jeetne Ke Liya Kuch Haar Na Parta Hai, Aur Haar Ke Jeetne Wale Ko Baazigar Kehte Hain”.

Aam – “WHAT!? That makes no sense”

SRK – “Kya hua? I am trying my best, Aam. This is what I do. This is what I am good at.”

Aam – “But, I need help.”

SRK – “Ha ha ha. Aam, the maximum help I can give is to sign you an autograph. We represent Page 3 of the daily news. Don’t you love our words, dialogues and movies?”

A disgruntled Aam has all but given up any hope of survival.


From a distance…

A Catwoman-like lady swoops down near Aam and shoos away the terrorists, with her God-awesome looks.

Aam – “Wow, there’s my beacon of hope. Thanks, dear lady, for saving him. Who are you?”

Masked Lady – I am Mallika Sherawat and I have just saved your life. Now pay me 75 lakhs.

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